


5 Times I’ve Almost Been Laid Bare and 1 Time I Chose to Confess

by Oscar_Wilde_Inspired



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Military Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-17
Updated: 2014-04-17
Packaged: 2018-01-19 18:00:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1478923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oscar_Wilde_Inspired/pseuds/Oscar_Wilde_Inspired
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is carefully wiping down the slide when Sherlock barrels into the room covered in a substance that looks remarkably like pulverized carrots. The man actually stumbles with the carry through force from the sudden stop he attempts.<br/>“I err…John.”<br/>Stilling his hand John looks up at Sherlock only to roll his eyes and let out a long breath “What are you covered in Sherlock?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	5 Times I’ve Almost Been Laid Bare and 1 Time I Chose to Confess

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from Anonymous request on Tumblr. 
> 
> "Can you do a fic where Sherlock gets turned on whenever John goes into military mode and John is confused why Sherlock is acting weird?"
> 
> I made it a 5 plus 1 because I haven't done one of these in a long time.

1\. The first time it happens John barely has time to register anything is amiss. They had been running far too long for John’s liking when he had stopped dead and turned on his heels. Raising his gun he quickly sighted the man running towards them. A sharp exhale, a twitch of the finger, and the man dropped like a stone to the ground, clutching at his right knee. There was a small silence that was quickly filled up with the sounds of shouting by the rest of the men chasing after them. Not bothering to pocket the gun John turned and ran past Sherlock who was stock still at the end of the hallway. John had made it nearly ten feet before he realized that Sherlock wasn’t following.  
“Sherlock!” John yelled waving frantically at the other man. Shaking his head Sherlock jerked out of whatever daze he had been in and turned to run just as the other men rounded the corner. 

2\. The second time is a bit more noticeable. John is sitting in the living room, bits of his gun strewn about the coffee table. He had been using his gun a bit more than he liked recently so he’s had to clean it more than usual. Most of the time Sherlock is absent during these cleaning chores simply because it’s easier to do when Sherlock is gone. The taller man has a habit picking up pieces and then leaving them in random parts of the flat once he gets bored of inspecting them. John is carefully wiping down the slide when Sherlock barrels into the room covered in a substance that looks remarkably like pulverized carrots. The man actually stumbles with the carry through force from the sudden stop he attempts.  
“I err…John.”  
Stilling his hand John looks up at Sherlock only to roll his eyes and let out a long breath “What are you covered in Sherlock?”  
“What?” Sherlock asked confused, his eyes trained on the dismantled weapon in John’s hand.  
“What,” John says slower this time confused by the usually sharp minded mans thickness “are you covered in?”  
“Um…there is a rabbit.” Shaking his head roughly Sherlock cleared his throat “How quickly can you assemble your weapon?”  
“In about a minute with a few spare seconds.”  
John actually winces with the force Sherlock snaps his mouth closed, his teeth clicking together in what seems like would be a very painful way. “Good” the word is uttered in broken syllables “good, you have three minutes to get downstairs. There is a rabbit.” Without another a word Sherlock simply spun around his long coat billowing out behind as he ran from the room. On the floor where he stood was a small pile of the orange stuff that Sherlock had been covered in. 

3\. The third time is remarkable only because John nearly murdered Sherlock. He was so close to following through on the rage induced thought that he had to walk away.  
It had started out innocently enough. A simple case involving a missing diamond ring. Nothing too hard or fancy but it had been a favor to Lestrade so they had taken the case. What was supposed to be an easy open and shut case turned into John crawling through the sewers chasing after a man that was supposed to be dead for nearly ten years now.  
Sherlock, the ever brilliant one, had decided that his particular skill set was needed elsewhere. When John had emerged from the sewers Sherlock had taken one look at him and declared the night not as much a waste of time that he thought it was going to be. Turns out the man hadn’t even been down in the sewers; a fact that Sherlock knew beforehand. He had simply wanted to plant suspicion in the suspects mind, make the man think they were onto him. When Sherlock had revealed the plan a sharp pang of rage had flown through John and he tackled the other man none the gently onto the ground.  
Startled by the violent reaction Sherlock didn’t have time to get his bearings allowing John to get him onto his stomach, arms pinned to his back. John’s knee was pressing sharply into the middle of his spine.  
“There are literally millions of different ways we could’ve made the suspect think we were onto him, none of which involve me crawling through the sewer system. I swear to God Sherlock I am so tired of this crap.” Sherlock had thrown up a cheeky comment about authenticity and John pressed his knee harder into Sherlock’s back. “I am a solider Sherlock, I’ve been to war. I know you tend to forget that, but I know at least ten ways I could kill you with my bare hands.” Leaning down John staged whispered into Sherlock’s ear “Just remember next time you decide to use me in your ridiculously needless plans. I could kill you in ways you’ll never think of.”  
Releasing Sherlock John stood up straightening his completely ruined clothing. Sherlock, however, was still laying stock still on the ground. His hands were placed above his head, clenched into fist.  
“Sherlock?” John asked the rage melting into worry. “You okay? I didn’t hurt you did I?”  
Moving his head jerkily against the ground Sherlock spoke in a muffled voice “You can head back to the hotel. I have things…I have stuff to do.” John didn’t bother to wait for an explanation. He was simply happy to get the chance to shower and change clothing. Sherlock could lie about on the ground all he wants John was going to get clean.

4\. The fourth is a blur of hazy memories. It had been Halloween. John hadn’t bothered to try and get a date due the case they had been working. However with unexpected twist the case ended up solving itself so Sherlock and him were back in their flat by eight pm. By ten John was drunk enough that it took three tries to get out of his chair. Even Sherlock, spurred on by John’s insistence, was a bit tipsy. Ears going pink at the tips. What had started as a game of deductions was now a game of trying to get the other person to say increasingly ridiculous things while being recorded. John had already got Sherlock to say ‘I’m a pretty pretty princess.’ As the night went on the memories got hazier and hazier until the last thing John could really remember correctly was Sherlock asking for a demonstration of John marching about and saying military like things.  
John wasn’t sure what happened after that but he remembers Sherlock going still, saying something that John couldn’t remember, than disappearing. John had tried to find the genius but navigating the flat had proved too tricky from John’s alcohol laced body. He ended up falling asleep in the doorway of the bathroom.

5\. The fifth time. Yeah, the fifth time. John had on a whim decided to get his old dress fatigues out to see if they still fit. Sherlock had been walking around the flat mumbling something under his breath while swirling a beaker of something that glowed suspiciously. Calling out to Sherlock John straightened the line of his shoulders and snapped his heels together. He had been wanting to show Sherlock the decorations he had gotten after his discharge. Sherlock had glanced distractedly at John before turning away. John thought Sherlock wasn’t going to say anything but the taller man whipped his head around in a fashion that looked reminiscent of the meer cats off of the discovery channel. Sherlock opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by running straight into the door jamb. Whatever had been in the beaker splashed across the front of Sherlock causing the dark haired man to curse loudly. John went from severely confused to laughing to panic mode within about 20 seconds. The mysterious substance that had been in the beaker started to hiss and smoke against the fabric of Sherlock’s shirt. John ended having to tear off Sherlock’s shirt and in the process got the substance all over his hands. Both of them ended up in the hospital. Sherlock had second degree burns across his chest and John had first degree burns across his palms and wrist. There was also a large hole in the left thigh of his uniform. 

+1. “The uniform, your gun, when you use your military voice” Sherlock rattled off, his voice hoarse.  
Grinning John pressed Sherlock back into the door jamb “I should’ve guessed by now that you’ve got a military kink. That explains a lot of your behavior over the years.”  
Sherlock shrugged trying to act like telling John this information wasn’t nearly gutting him. Despite how much he talked and showed off Sherlock was a deeply private man. And sharing something personal with someone, even if that person happens to be person he’s currently (only ever) sleeping with, is hard for him.  
John for all of obtuse based nature immediately caught onto Sherlock’s discomfort. “I’m glad you told me that.” John leaned in closer his voice dropping an octave as he did so “Because it just so happens that I recently had the uniform cleaned…and haven’t had the chance yet to put it away.”  
Sherlock could feel his pulse sky rocket, could feel the blood rush southward, and the skin on the palm of his hands turned clammy. Confessing to John might’ve been one of the best worst mistakes he’s ever made.  
“I’ve thought about you before while I was wearing it. Thought about how it’d be like to have your flushed skin pressed against the rough fabric while I strip your cock.” Oh yes, definitely the best mistake he’s made. And as soon as he’s able to convince his rubber legs to move he’ll prove his conclusion.


End file.
